


Smoke and Mirrors

by AnUndeadPoet



Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Dream Team - Fandom, mcyt
Genre: Angry TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Angst, Emotional Hurt, Exiled TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), I'm Sorry, Insane TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Insanity, Manipulation, Manipulative Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Mind Manipulation, Villain Tommyinnit (Video Blogging RPF)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-29
Updated: 2021-01-29
Packaged: 2021-03-14 21:27:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29052855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnUndeadPoet/pseuds/AnUndeadPoet
Summary: Maybe it was Dream leaving him alone with his thoughts for a few hours too long.Maybe it was his best friend ordering him away, not mustering a goodbye as he was dragged away, kicking and screaming, begging to stay.Maybe it was the constant, crippling silence.Maybe it doesn't matter what it was. All that matters were the silver scissors that cut cleanly though the last string tethering him to some form of sanity.
Comments: 3
Kudos: 91





	Smoke and Mirrors

**Author's Note:**

> Tommy is officially out of exile! they gave us a fairly happy ending (if you ignore the hole the size of L'manburg) and I want to change that :).
> 
> I'm not sure how long this will be, I don't quite know where I want to end it, so stay tuned! I'm half expecting no one to see this anyways. Its based...... very loosely on the song Smoke and Mirrors by Jayn.
> 
> The progression is going to be a bit faster that the SMP because I don't want this to take literal months to write. 
> 
> Enjoy!

The ocean nearly perfectly reflected the light blue towel that was the sky, crumpled and stained with the blood that someone wiped off their hands, the sun descending below into the depths of the water. It was quiet. It was always so deafeningly quiet, almost as if the world were a padded room, muffling even the soft waves that pulled and pushed at the white sand beaches.

Although, maybe it was just him. _Everything_ was muffled. Any quick passing joy he felt was slightly numb, reminiscent of the feeling right before your foot falls asleep. Any laughter produced brought no warm joy into his chest. Even sitting there, a smothering hot evening on the beach, Tommy's chest was ice cold. The place where the musical laughter of his friends resonated like an echo chamber. The spot where memories of their smiles, bathed in happiness and light. The quick embraces and shot pleasantries tucked away as close to his heart as he could keep them. It was empty. Someone had blown out the torches, plunging that room into darkness. The fireplace was put out and a window was opened, cold air blowing in and encasing those memories in ice nearly as clear as glass. They were different now.

Looking back on those memories, those yellow, shiny moments, all Tommy saw were traitors. They never came to see him. They never sent any regards. Did they miss him? Did they know he was gone?

_Were they happy he was gone?_

He had invited them to a party, a beach party, and Dream assured him the invitations were delivered. He saw that they were. Yet here he was, sitting all alone, watching the sun set on another day where all he saw was Dream, and even that interaction had been brief today. He had gone back through the portal after a short apology for the failed gathering that left Tommy feeling even more painfully, unbearably alone in his exile.

"No, no surely not," Tommy whispered to himself, watching the sun slide below the horizon, the sky turning a dark navy blue before his eyes, "surely they wouldn't all leave me here alone? Maybe- maybe they just never say their invitations. Maybe they were left out of sight. That's possible. Right?"  
  


_Maybe Dream had lied to him._

He would never do that though. Dream was the only one who came to see him, the only one that still cared about him. _Why was he the only one that came to see him._ He was the only one that cared enough to visit and talk and spend time with him. Dream was the only one that broke the deafening silence that encased him. _He broke the silence with the sound of bombs going off, destroying his hard earned things._ he made Tommy happy. He brought a little bit of joy with him when he came. _He was the whole reason he was on this island. He was the one that convinced Tubbo to get rid of him. He was the cause of everything that had gone wrong._

Dream wasn't his friend. Dream was his _enemy,_ if he was anything to Tommy at all. He never did any good, the only thing he had ever done was come visit when he had extra time. Tommy was his _entertainment,_ something to fill his free time, the gaps in his schedule that he had nothing better to do, nothing better to fill with than a short visit to fuck with Tommy's mind even more that he already had. 

No, no that wouldn't make sense. Why would he even bother visiting at all if he didn't care in the slightest? Deep down, Dream had to care about Tommy a little bit. He visited to cheer Tommy up. Sometimes he even brought new things to make up for the ones he destroyed. The pickaxe? The trident? why would he let Tommy keep those things if he really, truly only used him for entertainment? On some level Dream cared, on some level they were still friends, or at least becoming friends. He couldn't ruin that, couldn't push Dream away when he was the only friend he had left.

No. No, Dream was good to him. He couldn't lose the only person he had left. 


End file.
